A mistake
by Jenni-Marie-HP
Summary: The Chemist was sent from home, to hide on Earth until the time war was over. He lived on Earth as a human for only a few decades. Not knowing what happened. Not suspecting his true past. The Chemist was known for his brains, and so was his human incarnation. Going by the name of one of his favorite characters. Sherlock Holmes.
1. A mistake

Chapter one – That damned watch

"What is that?"

The Doctor was frowning at something, which Sherlock quickly slipped back into his pocket. Acting as if nothing had happened.

"What is what?" He asked "I believe we have more pressing matters than my watch. Such as finding a way off this ship and back to Barcelona."

The Doctor nodded, but his eyes lingered on the pocket, and the silver chain that barely peeked out of it.

John didn't understand why the watch had been such a big deal at the time. He'd seen it more than once. With Sherlock at the counter, trying everything he could to pry the silver-faced timepiece open. Nothing ever worked. He'd even thrown it out the window once in frustration. Though he'd gone to get it right after.

Now he understood. And he was wishing that the Doctor hadn't seen the watch at all. And that maybe, once they'd gotten home, everything could have gone back to normal. But no. That wasn't how it worked. They'd been so close too. But as soon as the TARDIS landed in London, Sherlock had the watch out again. And it was glowing.

A noise came from inside. At first, he thought he had merely imagined it. A voice coming from his watch. The watch he'd never been able to open. No matter what he did to it. The watch he'd found on Mycroft's desk when he was twelve. The one that sometimes, would glow, and he would feel, for a moment, like his heartbeat echoed, four beats instead of two.

_"Sherlock Holmes…." _The watch whispered _"A fitting disguise. The Earth detective from all those stories. We were so fond of those stories." _

Even now, while he stood there in shock, something of what it had said made sense to him.

_"Did you never wonder? Why you see so much?"_

The Doctor looked ready to step in. To try and explain. But before he even said anything:

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything-" The Doctor began

"No, but you were thinking about what you were going to say, and I know what it is." The glow from the watch seemed to be leaking out over Sherlock's hand. And his eyes had gone blank, as if he was remembering something. Something from a long time ago.

Fire and blood and death. And the armies of the universe, all in constant never ending battle. He had been so young…Only eight years old. A war that raged through the whole of time. And he must be kept safe. Must be sent away. His family would come find him when it was done. When their home was no longer soaking in the blood of a thousand planets.

But for now he must hide. So many years. Those different times…The memories in his mind that didn't seem to be his. A different child. In front of a swirling vortex. All of creation for him to see.

"Sherlock?" John's voice broke his train of thought. John…What would happen to him? The watch had grown warm in his hands. And Sherlock knew if he tried, it would open. Almost involuntarily, he pressed the button. There was a tiny click as the watch swung open, and the light engulfed them all.


	2. The chemist

Chapter two - The Chemist

"Sherlock?"

"Actually, my given title was 'The Chemist'" The man who was almost Sherlock, but not quite, said. Something was off, John could tell. With Sherlock, the only way to tell his mood was by his eyes. But this man, The Chemist. His eyes were blocked, cold and empty. John didn't know what to make of it. Except that he felt Sherlock was no longer there. "Although I've been going by Sherlock Holmes for so long I may as well just keep the name."

The Doctor was watching the exchange with something close to sadness. When he'd seen the watch he knew what it meant. For Sherlock, and more importantly, for John. Because The Chemist and Sherlock were not the same person. Especially now, when John had only begun bringing out the more human, more feeling side of Holmes. Though the Doctor was unfamiliar with the Chemist, he knew that the man had little more humanity than Koschei. As most time lords did. Kindness was a learned behavior among time lords, and not a common one at that.

"You really should fix the chameleon circuit you know," The Chemist, or, Sherlock, or, both. Was walking around the console of the TARDIS, examining it as if under a microscope. "The fact that it's jammed is causing all the other problems, as is the fact that type 40 was discontinued."

"Yes, thank you, I know, and I _like _the blue box. People know it's me that way."

Sherlock raised his eyebrows "Yes, well, I've obviously been out of touch for a long time. Is the war over with yet?" His voice, which had been toneless, gained a sliver of hope when he thought about home.

"Ah, well, the war-"

"Yes, the time war, you were there, must have been, you're much older than-" Sherlock stopped abruptly. "No..." Images flickered through his mind. Provided by the Doctor, the horror and destruction layed out in front of him. Thousands of Dalek ships, the Could've been king and his army of never-were's, the nightmare child with its pitch black mouth gaping. And Gallifrey in flames, the citadel of the time lords crumbling to nothing. And watching it all, a man in ragged clothing, hundreds of miles away, with a look of such sorrow that it would make even the strongest crumble. And even he was dying, as he watched his home, and his race turn to ash. Because it had to end.

"A time lock?" The Chemist asked, standing very still, not really able to look at the Doctor. Or anything but the center of the console, he had no home to go back to. It had burned, his home, his family, everything. And this, was the last TARDIS in existence.

"Yes, well, John, should I just, let you off, here?"

"Alone?" John asked

"Yes Dr. Watson, alone." The Chemist replied, meeting John's confused gaze "I have some more to discuss with the Doctor, and I'm afraid your human mind will not be able to keep up."

John was used to being called an idiot by Sherlock. But then again, Sherlock called everyone idiots. Now Sherlock was gone, replaced by this..._Thing_. He wasn't even sure what to call the Chemist. Many times, he'd referred to Sherlock as a machine, but never had it been this accurate. He didn't know what the Doctor had shown the man in his friend's body. But he knew it was bad, to do with war, and the Doctor's home planet. But that was it, and although he could see the pain in the Doctor's expression, the Chemist's was still a perfect mask.

"Well, then, I'll leave you to it."


	3. Humanity is a state of mind

Chapter three – Humanity is a state of mind

"Why should I?"

The Doctor was getting frustrated "_Why should you? _Why should you go after the man who has been your only friend in the entire world? When you've just realized who you are, and he's confused because you're acting as if he doesn't exist?"

"Yes, he was a good friend, and flatmate, while I was human. But now I am not. I'd prefer to stay here, study the ship, and perhaps attempt to replicate it so that I can travel on my own and continue my research."

"Your research?" The Doctor asked "You were _eight _when your family sent you from Gallifrey, how can you have _research_?"

The Chemist scoffed "I may have been human, but my mind certainly wasn't idle. I've been researching the human race. Finding out every fault, every strength, now that I've regained the rest of my brilliant mind, I'll be able to further understand them."

All of this sparked an idea to the Doctor "Then why not stay with John? Study him, continue your business, use the flat for experiments-"

"Unnecessary, all the equipment I need I already have, and the flat is cramped, it would much better suit me to conduct my research here."

"But it would be better for him." The Doctor said. It would, so much better for John if Sherlock was still around. They needed each other to stay a part of the normal world. "And for you. You've just been told about the war, you want to make someone pay for it. I can tell, I've been the same way. But it doesn't work like that. You can't just throw your suffering onto someone else. The best you can do. The best you can _ever _do, is distract yourself from the pain." The Doctor's expression had gone very grim, bad memories ran through his head at top speed. And he remembered everything bad. And why he needed his companions. Because they were all he had to distract himself.

"I don't need distractions." The Chemist said coldly

"Your research _is _a distraction! A way of keeping yourself occupied and not thinking of everything horrible that has ever happened!" The Doctor shouted "So you can take whatever equipment you need, but you are going back to John!"

"And you plan on making me do this how?" The Chemist asked, regarding the Doctor with a mix of disbelief and sarcasm.

"If you don't go back to John, I'm not allowing your continued study of the human race."

The Chemist merely smirked "Not allowing? And what exactly do you plan on doing to stop it?"

The Doctor smiled, because for all his knowledge, the Chemist hadn't been around to hear about the Doctor. The oncoming storm, the destroyer of worlds, the monster that had escaped the perfect prison.

"You will stay here as a prisoner, your will have no access to my equipment, or any room besides your own, and this one. You may be clever, but you're nothing without the correct tools, your mind will sit idle, and you'll probably go mad after several days. Is that clear enough?" The Doctor asked

"Crystal." The Chemist said stiffly.

"Well alright then. Get what you need and I'll take you back to the flat."


End file.
